The Blair Witch Project
by RECREATIONAL
Summary: A small group of survivors wanders into the small town of Blair where one of its members picks up a...PET of sorts. Witch/O.C


_**AN: This is just a little Witch/O.C fan fic I wrote. I haven't written anything in months and I need to get back in the game before I continue with any major stories. This is basically an experiment. Kind of like a journal. I'll be adding other zombies into this story besides those of Left 4 Dead, namely the ones encountered in Dead Island. I'm gonna try to mix the two combat systems together as well. I am sorry, but the thought of whacking zombies with a flaming axe or an Electrified machete or scoring headshots with a pistol that fires elemental bullets is badass and needs to be put into words. I do not own Left 4 Dead 1 & 2 or Dead Island. **_

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**The Blair Witch Project**

**Chapter I: 28 Days Later **

**28 Days after the First Infection…**

…Jimmy came to a conclusion. In a world gone to shit, its not the rabid zombie you have to worry about…well, to a degree. Though they were getting increasingly smarter, the Infected functioned mostly on an instinctual level. With enough observation, you learned what to listen out for, what to look for, how to avoid them.

But there is another X factor. A factor that changes constantly every single minute of every blaring hot or frigidly cold day.

A person's mentality.

No, in a world gone to shit, it's the person walking next to you that you have to worry about. Fear can make a person do some horrible things…. Things that they wouldn't do under normal circumstances.

Like shooting an innocent grocery store clerk for food and shelter.

The man was hysterical and crazy with fear, shakily pointing a magnum at the group. When the four had entered the store, Jimmy had seen the bodies of what looked like a woman and a child in the far corner near a row of coffee machines, covered by two white sheets. Blood seeped through the blankets near their head areas. Jimmy guessed it was the clerk's wife and kid and that he was forced to…_euthanize _them.

There was a lot of that going on these days.

Jimmy found himself wondering: What if he had to kill the people he loved the most to save them from a fate worse than death? What if he had to stay in a confined area with their rotting bodies a mere feet away from him? Would he have ended up hysterical like this guy in front of him?

The brown eyed boy wondered why the man didn't put them in a storage room or something, out of sight out of mind. He would have asked him…

If Ginger hadn't shot the clerk point blank in the face with a Chrome Shotgun.

Ginger Wood was a voluptuous, eighteen-year old redheaded, steel eyed Goth with a rather disturbing personality. Her fiery hair came down to the small of her back and her porcelain face was sprinkled with freckles. Her lips were stained with black lipstick, her ears bearing skull earrings, and her eyes lined with too much eyeliner. She wore an unzipped black hoodie with a hot pink shirt that said "I am A Sexy Bitch, Baby" underneath it. Black ripped skinny jeans, Goth boots, and strangely, a black dog collar with her name engraved on the little metal pendant.

Jimmy never got a chance to ask her why she wore it and he didn't know if he would be able to even look at her again.

The group just stood there, frozen in shock and horror at what Ginger had just done. The man had stayed on his feet for a couple of seconds, his face tenderized into a bloody mass of pulverized bone, cartilage, and flesh. One of the clerk's eyes was spared and, to Jimmy's growing horror and nausea, he thought he saw it turn it's accusing gaze on him.

It was as if the man was trying to say: _Why didn't you stop her? Why didn't you help me? Why did you people kill me?_

Then the clerk fell face first into the hard tiled floors with wet _SPLAT_.

It was almost completely silent, the only thing heard being the shuddering breaths of the three other survivors and Ginger's ragged, almost animal, panting. She held her shotgun tightly in her hands, smoke still wafting from the barrel. The groups medic, and the oldest, Doc Potter, was the first to speak up loudly

And he made his displeasure clearly known.

"What the hell?"

Doc Potter was a thirty five-year old veterinarian with thinning blond hair and gentle sapphire eyes. He wore what was once a white lab coat, now stained with blood and muck and God knows what else. A blue button up dress shirt under the lab coat, a red tie, black dress pants and black dress shoes. He had a bit of a belly but was nowhere near overweight.

Doc Potter closed his blue eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing up his glasses. "Why did you shoot?" He asked in an even tone. "We could have reasoned with him, we could have gained an ally."

Ginger sighed and lowered her shotgun, tucking a strand of her flowing, fiery hair behind her right ear, and shrugged.

"Or we could have just gained another mouth to feed." Jimmy was taken aback by the Goth's nonchalant attitude. "Besides, I get…trigger happy when someone waves firearms in my face." Ginger said coldly.

Jimmy was still stunned, still staring at where the man had been standing. He could see blood and bits of skull and gore on the far wall.

"Why…" Jimmy whispered. "He was just scared…he was just-"

"Going to shoot us. Or get in our way." A quivering voice said.

Jimmy turned to the group's final member.

"Del, you can't be serious? We could have easily rushed him before he shot _anyone_."

Delilah Pecker was a normally preppy, pale skinned, ebony haired seventeen-year old with bright leaf green eyes. She wore her hair short, just past her ears, small hoop earrings, and a little pearl nose ring. A golden pendant dangled from her neck, probably holding a small picture of some kind. She was garbed in a green and gray striped long sleeved sweater, navy blue skinny jeans and black converse sneakers.

The raven haired young woman shook her head, her emerald eyes holding sadness and sickness despite what she was saying.

"We can't risk it. This group can't survive with just three people." Del said, her full pink lips quivering slightly. "W-we need to take care of our own."

"Excuses are the tool in which we build monuments of nothing." Doc Potter said sternly, and then all eyes in the room were on him. "We're not going to make anything better by going around shooting innocent people and saying that we had to do it for our own survival. That's a bunch of horse shit." He snarled. "I don't want another incident like this happening again…"

Jimmy nodded. "Haven't we already killed enough people?"

Ginger gave him a perplexed look before breaking out into a fit of giggles, struggling to keep her voice down. Infected weren't just attracted to alarms and such, they were attracted to anything that made a _sound._ Come to think of it, Jimmy hadn't seen a stray dog, cat, or even a deer since the Infection broke out.

"Are you talking about the zombies?" Ginger asked in a disbelieving voice. "The ones that form large mobs and try to rip the meat off our bones? The ones that pounce off of one hundred foot buildings, itching to rip our guts out? The ones that puke all over us? The ones that spit acid? The ones that chuck fuckin eighteen wheelers at us? That's not even half the shit we've encountered, the list goes on!"

Jimmy didn't flinch or waver for a second. "Ginger…" He began. "Yes, they are trying to eat us, but I'm not going to pretend that they are not people and I am not going to pretend that they are not _sick _people."

Ginger raised her eyebrows and her mouth opened slightly in disbelief. "You call the incredible fucking Hulk a sick person? Are you serious?"

Jimmy rolled his eyes. "Its called hypertrophy, an incredible increase in muscle growth. The Tank's aggression? Probably caused by a fever or rabies like infection in the brain. These things are not some mystical, fantastical creatures. They are not immortal vampires or even undead zombies!"

Jimmy leaned forward. "Read my lips. They. Are. Sick. People. I'm not going to allow myself to think otherwise."

Doc Potter nodded. "Yes, they are very sick people. People infected with a virus that, even if cured, would probably leave them on a ventilator for the rest of their lives." Doc Potter spoke up.

Del nodded her head. "The best thing we can do for them is blow them away quickly."

Ginger rolled her eyes. "What's with all the drama, now? We've been killing them for a month."

Jimmy's hazelnut eyes narrowed, growing cold and sorrowful. "I don't want to get use to it." He said in a dead, frigid voice. "I really don't…"

Doc Potter and Del looked at Jimmy with concern in their eyes. It was a well known fact that Jimmy was the most sensitive of the group when it came to killing and morals. He was a bit gangly and smallish for a boy of seven-teen. His chestnut hair fell into his face, partially hiding his hazelnut eyes. His skin was fair with some freckles here and there. He wore a red jacket with a gray hood and cuffs. A black Johnny Cash T-Shirt underneath the hoodie, dark gray jeans, and black Nike sneakers.

The boy kept mostly to himself and Doc Potter was afraid that he would break down multiple times during their journey and he still held that fear in the back of his head. Hell, he feared for all three of his young charges. In particular Ginger.

She had been disturbed by the killing when this all started…now she had gotten so use to it that she could shoot a healthy person in the face with no remorse.

Yes, he worried for the mental stability of his team every second of everyday.

Ginger examined her skull painted nails, her black lips tugged into a frown and her steel gray eyes were half lidded. "Yawn, can we find something to eat now and hopefully find a safe room? I'm hungry and I get pissed off when I'm hungry."

Jimmy's hands balled into fists and he ground his teeth. "You know what pisses me off? Your nagging. Your nagging fucking pisses me off."

The room was dead silent for a moment.

"What?"

Jimmy snapped out of his fit of rage and his eyes went wide and his mouth gaped.

"I-I-"

Ginger was on him in an instant. She pushed him roughly against a store isle, the metal digging into his back.

"What the fuck did you say to me?"

Jimmy eyes were wide with terror. He was afraid of Ginger. Scared out of his mind. Her steel eyes bored into his hazelnut ones.

"I asked you a question, man whore."

Jimmy's eyes narrowed into slits of rage and Ginger grinned devilishly, licking her lips, revealing a tongue ring.

"Yeah, you heard me. Man whore."

"Shut up." Jimmy said through gritted teeth.

"Why? I mean, you do keep me and Del 'company', sometimes, right? You're a man whore that needs to watch his mouth."

"Ginger, would you leave him alone!" Del yelled out. Ginger glared at her.

"Mind your own business, cum cake!"

Doc Potter shook his head and pried Ginger off of Jimmy, pushing them apart.

"Would you all shut up. You're going to attract a-"

Doc Potter was cut off by multiple bone chilling screams of fury that echoed from outside. The sound of numerous feet pounding against the asphault met the group's ears.

"…Horde."

"Ah shit."

"This is all your fault."

"Fuck you."

"You wish."


End file.
